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Authors: Joy Fielding
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name O’Connor. Maybe I thought Sheena’s mother might have sung it to her, that the song might stir something deep in the girl’s subconscious, remind her of a time when she felt secure and protected, a time when no harm could befall her.
“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ra,”
I sang, my voice gaining strength with each repetition of the simple sounds.
“Too-ra-loo-ra-lie …”
Sheena remained motionless.
“
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ra
… that’s an Irish lullaby.”
“And it’s a very lovely one,” a man’s voice said from the doorway.
I recognized the voice without having to turn around. I swallowed the sounds in my throat and willed my face not to betray me as I turned toward the doorway. Josh Wylie, tall and almost carelessly handsome, with salt-and-pepper hair and his mother’s blue eyes, stood watching me. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to realize you have a beautiful voice.”
I gripped the railing at Sheena’s bedside to steady myself as I rose to my feet. “Thank you.” I walked across the room, my heart wobbling, although my feet were surprisingly steady. Josh Wylie backed into the hallway as I approached, and I shut the door to Sheena’s room behind me.
“What’s the matter with her?” Josh asked as we started down the corridor.
I related the gruesome details of the assault. “She’s in a coma. Her eyes are open, but she doesn’t see anything.”
“Will she be that way forever?”
“Nobody knows.”
“What a shame.” Josh shook his head sadly. “So, how’s my mother doing?” He smiled, a warm upturn of his lips that underlined the sparkle in his eyes. “I understand you cut her hair.”
“Just a few snips here and there. She seems to like it.”
“She’s crazy about it. She’s crazy about
you,”
Josh emphasized. “Thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Thinks I should take you out to lunch the next time I visit.”
“What?”
“Lunch, next Friday. If you’re free. If you’re hungry …”
“I’m always hungry,” I said, grateful when he laughed. “Lunch next Friday sounds great.” I thought of Alison. Two surprising invitations in one day.
“Okay, then, next Friday it is.” We reached the nurses’ station. “Till then, I leave my mother in your capable and creative hands.”
“Drive carefully,” I called as Josh stepped inside the waiting elevator.
“And no uniform. This isn’t a business lunch.” He waved as the elevator door drew slowly closed.
This isn’t a business lunch
, I repeated silently, mentally raiding my closet, trying to decide what to wear, wondering whether to splurge on a new outfit. It was only then that I became aware of a slight commotion behind me. “Problems?” I asked, spinning around on my heels, seeing Margot and Caroline making exaggerated sweeps of the desk with their hands and eyes.
“Caroline’s wallet is missing from her purse,” Margot said.
I came around to the inside of the nurses’ station, began my own head sweep. “You’re sure? It’s not in a pocket somewhere?”
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Caroline moaned, brushing chin-length, brown hair away from her long face, emptying the contents of her purse onto the floor. At the best of times, Caroline looked vaguely depressed. Now she looked positively distraught.
“Maybe you left it in another purse. I did that once,” I offered gamely, although I’d never done any such thing.
“No, I had it with me this morning. I know, because I bought a cup of coffee and a Danish downstairs.”
“Maybe you left it on the counter after you paid.”
Caroline shook her head. “I’m sure I put it back in my purse.” She looked up and down the corridor, tears filling her dejected brown eyes. “Damn it. I had over a hundred dollars in there.”
I thought of Alison. She’d been here when the fire alarm had sounded and the nursing station had been left temporarily unattended. And
“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ra,”
I sang, my voice gaining strength with each repetition of the simple sounds.
“Too-ra-loo-ra-lie …”
Sheena remained motionless.
“
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ra
… that’s an Irish lullaby.”
“And it’s a very lovely one,” a man’s voice said from the doorway.
I recognized the voice without having to turn around. I swallowed the sounds in my throat and willed my face not to betray me as I turned toward the doorway. Josh Wylie, tall and almost carelessly handsome, with salt-and-pepper hair and his mother’s blue eyes, stood watching me. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to realize you have a beautiful voice.”
I gripped the railing at Sheena’s bedside to steady myself as I rose to my feet. “Thank you.” I walked across the room, my heart wobbling, although my feet were surprisingly steady. Josh Wylie backed into the hallway as I approached, and I shut the door to Sheena’s room behind me.
“What’s the matter with her?” Josh asked as we started down the corridor.
I related the gruesome details of the assault. “She’s in a coma. Her eyes are open, but she doesn’t see anything.”
“Will she be that way forever?”
“Nobody knows.”
“What a shame.” Josh shook his head sadly. “So, how’s my mother doing?” He smiled, a warm upturn of his lips that underlined the sparkle in his eyes. “I understand you cut her hair.”
“Just a few snips here and there. She seems to like it.”
“She’s crazy about it. She’s crazy about
you,”
Josh emphasized. “Thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Thinks I should take you out to lunch the next time I visit.”
“What?”
“Lunch, next Friday. If you’re free. If you’re hungry …”
“I’m always hungry,” I said, grateful when he laughed. “Lunch next Friday sounds great.” I thought of Alison. Two surprising invitations in one day.
“Okay, then, next Friday it is.” We reached the nurses’ station. “Till then, I leave my mother in your capable and creative hands.”
“Drive carefully,” I called as Josh stepped inside the waiting elevator.
“And no uniform. This isn’t a business lunch.” He waved as the elevator door drew slowly closed.
This isn’t a business lunch
, I repeated silently, mentally raiding my closet, trying to decide what to wear, wondering whether to splurge on a new outfit. It was only then that I became aware of a slight commotion behind me. “Problems?” I asked, spinning around on my heels, seeing Margot and Caroline making exaggerated sweeps of the desk with their hands and eyes.
“Caroline’s wallet is missing from her purse,” Margot said.
I came around to the inside of the nurses’ station, began my own head sweep. “You’re sure? It’s not in a pocket somewhere?”
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Caroline moaned, brushing chin-length, brown hair away from her long face, emptying the contents of her purse onto the floor. At the best of times, Caroline looked vaguely depressed. Now she looked positively distraught.
“Maybe you left it in another purse. I did that once,” I offered gamely, although I’d never done any such thing.
“No, I had it with me this morning. I know, because I bought a cup of coffee and a Danish downstairs.”
“Maybe you left it on the counter after you paid.”
Caroline shook her head. “I’m sure I put it back in my purse.” She looked up and down the corridor, tears filling her dejected brown eyes. “Damn it. I had over a hundred dollars in there.”
I thought of Alison. She’d been here when the fire alarm had sounded and the nursing station had been left temporarily unattended. And
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